The flower bud kept telling the bees
To come home tomorrow
For soon it would bloom;
I tell the clock and make promises
To hours that one day soon
I will go on a date with time
And do all the things I love to do,
It will just be the two of us
And I shall be present in whole
With my body and soul.
But life for now, is a set of tomorrows
That my today keeps leaning towards
And time keeps slipping
Through my busy typing fingers.